Ravensdagger_Overkill

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen Time: Twelve minutes after the start of the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.HK-47 didn’t know what to say about his master’s plan. The title was certainly deserved, at least for the few hours she was likely to survive before being disintegrated. It was at once mad and certain to, at the very least, cause chaos in the ranks of their enemies.With a flick he turned off the safety on his blaster rifle and raised it to his shoulder. His calculations suggested that they were going to go out in a blaze of glorious, fiery death. And that was good enough for him.“Announcement: Piracy protocols loaded and ready, master.”

* * *

Time: Six minutes before the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.When Skarsk Nek told Darth Khepri and her terrifying protocol droid that they were, in all likeliness, going to be boarded and held in place until the Hutts came to destroy them, he had imagined that her reaction would be something normal. Fear, perhaps, or maybe anger and desperation.He didn’t expect her to start asking questions about the number of enemies they were going to have to deal with or whether any of the slaves would be so kind as to assist in what was, to his mind, little more than a very elaborate suicide attempt.But she said it with conviction, laying out ideas that quickly grew and changed as he pointed out new problems that she would have to face, each issue an attempt to convince her that it was all a horrible, horrible idea.Then Sib Nark got involved and decided that if he was going to lose his precious asset, it would be because the asset got rid of herself, and that he, as little more than a mercenary, would assist her.That’s how he came to be standing before the yet-unopened universal hatchway set at the end of a white-walled corridor, fidgeting on the spot with his claws digging at the ground and hands twitching towards his blasters. All of his instincts told him that he was going to be in the fight of his life.He could feel the trepidation coming from the so-called freedom fighters behind him, all of them slaves freed by Khepri who had volunteered for the daredevilish stunt. Thay had to reject dozens of them, even after telling them of the odds.Maybe, if he forgot all else and let himself sink into unreasonableness, he too would be willing to trust in the mad Darth’s plan. But for now he would keep his wits about him and play his part. He just had to still the eager beating of his heart.The door hissed.

* * *

Time: One hour before the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.“So, you’re telling me that not only are we going to be boarded by the space IRS,” Taylor said as she eyed first HK-47, then Skarsk Nek and the ex-slaves that had decided to follow him. “But we’re being boarded to hold us in place until the people we pissed off on that desert planet come around and enslave us all, again?”“Compliment: A wonderful summation of events, master,” HK-47 said. “Suggestion: The boarding ramp the so-called inspectors will be using would serve as an excellent chokepoint to gun down the undesirables as they rush into this vessel. We could use their vehicle to escape and leave all these useless meatbags behind.”Taylor glared at him, then looked at the Trandoshan and the Falleen behind him. They were in one of the main corridors of the ship, one that bisected it from prow to stern and that branched off into the massive holds along the sides.The ex-slaves looked nervous, an almost palpable scent of fear coming off of them as if they knew that they were about to be caged, or worse, again.Taylor’s mind raced. She never meant to take responsibility for that many lives and still didn’t feel as though she deserved the burden being shoved onto her back. But she was responsible, and she had to do something about it.The problem was finding something she could do that would keep the people in the Super Freighter safe.“HK-47, could we fight off the Republic ship?”“Suggestion: If we deactivate all security precautions aboard this vessel we could ram the enemy ship at such a velocity as to render it, and any planetary body directly behind it, unusable.”Taylor glared. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard from you.” She shook her head. “How much trouble would we be in if you killed the inspectors and tried to make a run for it?”“Answer: Lots.”She pinched her eyes closed. “And if we didn’t kill, but instead captured all of them?”“Concern: Master, are you suggesting that we capture an entire ship’s complement of soldiers in order to make a point about assaulting any vessel you’re on? Conjecture: I suspect the Hutt forces will still attack us even with Republic hostages, though it might sow more chaos. Always a desirable outcome in a battle where you are heavily outgunned and outnumbered.”“And what if we made a run for it?”HK-47 shook his head from side to side. “Statement: From what I have gathered you, my master, are the main target of the Hutt’s ire. No matter where you run the Hutt forces will chase you down. Addition: This vehicle, as large and fuel efficient as it may be, it not fast enough to escape the Hutt’s attention.”Taylor slowly crossed her arms, then looked down. It... wasn’t helpless. Not yet.The Profits of Merchandising was still on a direct course for a section of space relatively busy with traffic. There were plenty of larger ships there, all on a course towards the same destination they were on. Apparently plotting a course took time and was easier if done from certain key locations.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.Which meant that the battlefield wasn’t as random as she might have originally thought. “I have a few ideas,” she said. “But they’re going to be strange, and I’m going to need Sib Nark’s help, as well as any volunteers from the freedom fighters that know anything about piloting a ship.”

* * *

Time: Three minutes before the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.The boarding ramp shuddered and hissed as the pressure between the two ships stabilized. He passed a hand over the front of the uniform, then stopped to scratch at a stain decorating the soft material.It would probably leave in the wash. He could get some of his subordinates to do that now because he was the head honcho here, the captain, the Gungan in charge.Straightening his back a little, he shifted from foot to foot and glared at the still-closed airlock door. “Yousa all know whatsa you be doings?” he asked.“Yes sir, Captain N'koala,” his assistant said. She was a human, as were most of the crew aboard his ship, but there were plenty of aliens too. Truly, the cultural diversity laws that the Republic were pushing were a great boon to the smaller species across the galaxy. He would certainly not have risen to his rank without them.And now, thanks to that rank, he found himself in a position where opportunities abounded. At first he was leery and confused about the strange habits his crew had of taking little gifts in order to facilitate the traffic through the sector, but soon he came to see that it was all for the best.After all, if a merchant wanted to gift him some fine grist mollusks for his services in keeping the Republic safe, then helping them along, or giving them a discount on their taxes was the least he could do.Yes, he was going to be the best officer the Republic had ever seen, or at least the best Gungan captain to tax the stars. “Oh, mesa think wesa about to board,” he said as the airlock finished cycling and began to open.This was just a routine stop. His assistant said that there were rumours that this ship held a whole lot of slaves, and that was just terrible. So he was going to inspect the ship like a hero of yore, and then hand over the vile slavers to the nice Hutt people who would take care of them. And then he would be gifted many credits and praise for his assistance.Yes, he was the best.He stopped scratching at the stain on his jacket and looked down a long corridor with off-white walls, a lone trandoshan with chromed armour over his chest and legs and upper arms, with a sickly green uniform underneath. The trandoshan was looking at him and his assistant and his two guards with narrowed eyes. “Welcome aboard the Profits of Merchandising,” the Trandoshan said. “I am Skarsk Nek, this ship’s chief of security.”“Mesa Teers N'koala,” Teers said as he stumbled forwards, one hand rising to shake. “And wesa the Intersector Revenue Services, da mostest important service of the Republic.” He nodded along at his own words as his guards trooped in, blaster rifles held low, but ready to come up in case of trouble.“I’m sure,” Skarsk Nek hissed. “Why are you here?”“Wesa just inspecting disa ships for any illegal con-tra-band and for suchlike things.”Skarsk Nek nodded. “And our ship was the one that was chosen out of all the ships in this sector?”“Yesa. Wesa received a report dat yousa bongo was carryin' sum suspicious cargo. Yousa wouldn't besa tryin' ta hide sumptin from da Republic, would yousa?” He leaned forwards, ears flopping on both sides of his head.The Trandoshan snorted. “Not at all. Follow me, then,” he said.Teers clapped and followed after the Trandoshan, his guards and assistant right on his heels. As soon as they discovered something suspicious, he would be able to call the ship and they would lock this vessel in place with their tractor beams and ion cannons. That was, if they didn’t listen and shut off their engines on their own.He strutted around the corner, then stopped.Standing behind raised crates and large boxes were two dozen Falleen and a mixed bag of other aliens, most of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder with skeletal battle droids. “Oh, dat's rilly notsa hot.”In a move so swift he couldn’t even follow it, the Trandoshan spun around on the ball of one foot, tore out a blaster pistol from around his hip, and snapped off five shots into his guards and assistant.They all flopped to the ground while the Trandoshan pointed the warm barrels of his blasters right at Teer’s head. “We’re bringing you with us.”"You're makin' a boopjak hair,” he said as he slowly raised his arms.The Falleen and others rushed forwards and started dragging his guards away while taking off all their gear. He was going to protest but Skarsk poked his ribs. “My blaster was set on stun,” he said. “We didn’t kill any Republic soldiers, we took out some pirates disguised as Republic officers. At least, that’ll be our story.”“Yousa're goen to besa in doo-doo per doen disa,” he said. “Da republic isn't goen to take disa”“Yeah, you’re probably right. But we’ll be going out with a fight, and that counts for a lot.”

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen Time: Twelve minutes after the start of the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.“What kind of ship is this?” Taylor asked as she walked down the middle of a white-walled corridor. The sides were covered in panels that looked to be made of some hard plastic and her booted steps rang over a rough, grated floor.It felt as if the entire ship was designed to be as clean as possible, hiding all the wires and pipes and mechanical bits behind removable walls. There were rooms that accessed what looked like engines and other systems that looked important but that she couldn’t make heads or tails of with her limited bug vision.She didn’t know much about spaceships. Not nearly enough to judge one, but the layout of the Republic ship suggested that it was made for tight skirmishes in the corridors and quick and easy access to all the important components, presumably to keep it running if it was attacked.It was, unlike Sib Nark’s Profits of Merchandising, a warship, albeit a small one.Maybe that was why she wasn't surprised when her range slid over a group of armed humans and aliens hidden around the next intersection. She sighed and had them move to escort her. More firepower wouldn’t go amiss, especially if things went horribly wrong.“Where’s the command area on this thing?” she asked.HK-47, whose footfalls on the grated floor were exactly as loud as one would expect from a robot, was quick to respond. “Conjecture: Judging by the layout seen so far, the scans made of the ship from the Profits of Merchandising, and the data downloaded from the extranet, the bridge of this vessel is at the very front.”“And how long will it take to get everyone into position?” she asked.Two corridors down she used some bugs to warn her freedom fighters of a group of Republic soldiers moving to intercept them, then used another batch of bugs to choke the soldiers and poke their eyes. They went down in a blaze of ion fire.“Comment: With the quality of the help you have? A decade would be insufficient. But they will reach their assigned positions in a few minutes.”“Right,” she said as she moved on ahead. Behind her trailed a dozen ex-slaves, all of them apparently capable bridge crew, and twice that number of battle droids that could serve as the same, all of them surrounding a group of unarmed and unhappy Republic pirates. They just had to get to the bridge and she could move on to the next part of her plan.They turned down another corridor and arrived at a thick door surrounded by red lights. “Announcement: We have arrived.”“You’d make a great GPS,” Taylor deadpanned. She gestured at the door. “Can you open it up?”“Negation: I cannot open this blast door. There is a biometric lock on the panel next to it, however.”Taylor noticed the blocky panel and nodded. “Tell two of the battle droids to bring my Gungan friend over, then get ready to take out any guests on the other side of the door.” She moved to the side while spreading out her collection of guards, soldiers and personnel like a wall of blaster-bolt absorbent bodies.The Gungan blubbered as he was pushed forward, but quieted as soon as he was within her range and walked with none of his liquid languidness over to the panel to press his hand on it.HK-47 brought his oversized blaster rifle up. “Announcement: Piracy protocols loaded and ready, master.”

* * *

Time: Twenty-Three minutes after the start of the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.His ship completed the jump from hyperspace with a rattle, then settled into a smooth flight through the empty void.Narrowing his eyes, the captain looked over his bridge, taking note of the posture of his crew as they pored over their consoles. “Any surprises?” he asked.His first mate shook his head. “No, captain, nothing but empty space and a whole lot of ships in the long range scanners.”“Good,” he said. That was as it should be. “The others?”“The Gut-Ripper, Raider and Stinky are already here, Captain Triras, sir” his scanner operator said from her seat. “Annnd the Thick Stick just showed up, late as usual. Putting it up on the main command display.”He grunted an affirmative and pressed a few keys on the arm of his command seat. A holographic display of local space appeared, a bubble of flat rings with distance markers all centred on the Beskar Mace. The other ships, three escort frigates and a converted freighter, were arrayed in a loose formation around her. She was the only Mon Calamari cruiser in this corner of space, as far as he was aware, and he was damned proud of her.It had taken years of doing business that had left him feeling sick to his stomach to afford his MC40, but it was the greatest purchase he had ever made. Rubbing a hand gently across the armrest as if carressing the Mace, he refocused on the task at hand. This ship made him a name with the Hutts, someone worth paying attention to. Now he to had to prove his worth again.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.“Where’s our target?” he demanded.The woman on the scanner was quick to reply. “Right here, sir,” she said before bringing up another image.The Super Freighter Profits of Merchandising was huge. Easily twice as big as his Mace. But it was an ugly thing. All angular and utilitarian, with nothing to please the eye about it. “Is that the Republic ship?” he asked, pointing to a different vessel that was just barely registering on the scans.“Aye, sir, IFF reads as the Bureaucratic Enforcer. Intersector Revenue Services.”He huffed. “Did they get the job done at least?” he asked. “Comms, get me a link with the fool in charge.”“Aye, sir,” his comms officer said.A hologram appeared in the centre of the bridge, glowing a bright and clear blue as the reception between the two ships was nearly crystal clear. Floating there, just slightly larger than life, was a Falleen male, his uniform frumpled and dirty and crooked. “Hey, hi, sorry, yeah, I’m with ya,” he said before giving them a brilliant smile and straightening his hat. “How can I help?”Triras glared at the fool. “Put your captain on the comms. Now.”“Ah, well,” the Falleen said. He looked off and away from the holoprojector, then came back with a sickening grin. “I can’t do that. Captain’s, uh, he’s playing, with some slaves. We, uh, took a few of the prettier ones. That’s okay, right?”He felt his grip tighten on the armrest of his seat, then consciously loosened his grip. “I will tell my clients as much. As long as the main target is still aboard the ship we will have no issues. Tell me of the Profits’ condition.”“The what?” the Falleen asked before the faintest light of intelligence sparked in his eye, then sputtered. “Oh, that ship. Yeah, it’s okay. We had to knock her out of space, you know? Tried to run for it. And, uh, sent those Vultures at us, but we got lucky with an ion blast. Not lucky I mean, we followed protocol. I think.”Triras felt his jaw starting to ache. “Understood. We’ll begin boarding as soon as we reach them. Triras of the Beskar Mace, out.” With a swipe of his hand he ordered the comms shut and watched it wink out before speaking.“Send a message to the Stinky. Have them tail that Republic ship,” he didn’t wait for the ‘aye sir’ before giving his next order. “Get me targeting on any debris near the Profits of Merchandising. Find those knocked out Vultures. They start moving and I want them burning in space. Order the Thick Stick to prepare for boarding maneuvers. We’ll go by the books here. And inform our own troopers to get ready for boarding as well. We’ll dock with her ourselves. I don’t trust the Thick Stick’s crew to do anything right. And make sure the others give us some room to maneuver and watch our damned backs. We’ll be sitting mynocks for a while.”A chorus of ayes greeted him.

* * *

Time: Thirty-Seven minutes after the start of the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.Taylor watched with mounting anticipation as the five ships approached. She could see them out of the Enforcer’s bridge window, but they were small and distant specks, only the brass hull of the Belkar Mace sticking out from the void of space as it moved to approach the Profits.She hoped that things went to plan, but knew better than to expect complete success. All of the best fighters were with her now, and the Profits had an entire ship’s worth of Republic soldiers locked in one of its holds. At least those left behind were armed and had a few hundred droids for support.Not as much as she would have liked. Not by half.One of the ships, the Stinky she thought, was moving closer to them. It was little more than a tin can affixed to a box with engines strapped on the back, but HK-47 said that for all of its ugliness and smaller size, it was just as armed as her own new ship.The two other escorts, both now circling a distance away, were no better.Outnumbered and outgunned. But they had one key advantage. Surprise.She hoped it would be enough.“HK,” she called out. The delay between order, translation and action was going to be a problem, she knew, but it wasn’t one she could do anything about on such a short amount of time. “Get us moving towards that line of freighters.” She turned and pointed to the holographic display in the room’s centre. There were plenty of ships in the area, though they were dispersed. Mostly. One group was fairly tightly knit. “Tell Xarly to send the distress signals. Ask for civilian assistance on behalf of the Republic. Get those fighters back online and tell the Republic fighters to come back, double time.”“Statement: I shall relay your orders, Master.”“HK-47,” she said before he could start translating. “Tell everyone that I wish them good luck. And to open fire whenever they can.”“Comment: With pleasure!”

* * *